Roses
by CastielKicksAss
Summary: They've been together so long now...Eames/Arthur


I own nothing!

So my brother is getting married and my parents' anniversary is coming up and this popped in my head, I hope you like! And I AM working on a sequel to **Adore** but, it's being very stubborn. ;:heads desk:; But, I am trying my hardest. Anyway on to the story!:D

And here we go…

Roses

They've been together for years now. The passion at the beginning of their relationship was something people search for their entire lives. Arthur remembers when Eames put a rose in Arthurs' suite pocket on their first date together. He remembers how Eames used to pull Arthurs body toward his own every night, holding him securely to his side. Arthur used to complain about that, Eames' body was like a heater and it can't be winter all the time. They used to wake up late in the morning after a long job together and slowly make their way to the car. They'd hop in and drive for hours until they reached another of their houses. Well, Eames called it a house; Arthur called it a mini mansion. It is nestled back in the woods connected to the real world by a long, winding driveway. They would reach it by sundown and would work together to make a magnificent dinner and then walk down to the pier that stretched out to almost the middle of the lake. Sitting on the cushioned floor with no other person for miles around was exhilarating and, if Arthur were honest, lead to the best and longest sex marathons they ever had.

Recently though, they've grown so used to each other. It wasn't an adventure anymore. They knew each others likes and dislikes, dreams and nightmares, everything else in between. Working together has become a thing of the past or at least an unusual occasion. This has landed Arthur in his current situation, lying in their bed by himself. And to make matters worse, its Arthurs birthday.

Arthur looks at the clock on the night stand _12:01_. It hurts, he can't pretend it doesn't. Eames has never once missed is birthday. Even when he was away he would send a package with some expensive clothing item and a rose.

The meaning of the rose has change over their relationship, at first it was the beginning or "blooming" of it. Of course, Eames couldn't just leave it as a fond memory. Arthur can still remembers blushing in embarrassment over receiving twelve perfect roses on their anniversary with a note,

_We're forever darling, or at least until the last one dies. –Eames_

Arthur still remembers finding that one glass rose nestled lovingly among its living, mortal companions.

But now Arthur cannot pretend to not notice the space between them. He had been waiting for a gift or a phone call all day. Pathetically he had stayed at the house and, to his own shame, peaked out the window at times.

Admitting defeat Arthur pulls himself to sit against the headboard. The house is quiet, almost dead without the passion that used to fill it. He can't stay here.

Willing his body out of bed Arthur throws on a surprisingly casual set of clothes. Had any of his team seen him in these "sweat pants" they would've locked him up for fear of mental collapse. But he couldn't bring himself to care. Slowly Arthur made his way down the stairs and followed the pull toward the garage. When he reached his Ferrari he lovingly ran his fingertips up the car cover before pulling it off in a flourish. Dust flies through the air, another reminder of how long it's been since Eames and he have gotten away.

Sliding in he starts the engine and drives off.

* * *

The Ferrari steers itself, like it's on a path it remembers from long ago. It goes faster, faster towards its destination hungry, desperate for a taste of that freedom and happiness it used to have. Flying down that narrow and winding path with an ease that surprises Arthur he is soon standing in front of their "home" by the lake.

Bypassing the grand staircase that would take him inside Arthur stumbles around the back of the house toward the pier…and freezes.

There at the end of that pier is Eames adding the finishing touch to a wooden table for two, a bundle of roses. A small gasp makes it way out of Arthur and Eames' head snaps up.

"Well I was going to come get you darling but, this way the food will still be warm." Eames says with a smile.

He plucks a rose from the bushel and takes off the thorns and long stem while walking toward a stunned Arthur. Eames looks directly into his eyes before taking a deep breath,

"I miss you. I know that sounds crazy, but I can't help it. I miss when we used to come here. It kills me to go to sleep so many nights by myself so far away from you when I'm on a job and it damn near rips out my heart when we're in the same bed together but I feel like I don't dare put my arms around you. When it feels like I don't have the right anymore. And I swear darling if you'll meet me at least a quarter of the way I'll gladly make up the rest if it means we can make this right."

Eames puts the rose in Arthur's jacket pocket and gives him a sad smile.

"Please darling, just give you and me one more go. I know you feel whatever it is that has come between us but, I know we can get through this. Please, love? I won't let this go wrong again."

Looking up into those desperate and beloved eyes is all it takes for Arthur to launch himself at Eames and kiss him. And he can feel it, lighting up like a match struck next to gasoline, there's that passion.

"I thought you forgot my birthday." Arthur says when they pull back for air.

"Never darling, me not celebrate any day that lead up to this? Never," Eames breaths.

Taking Arthurs hand Eames leads him to the table before heading over to the various plates on a cart. Arthur glances at the roses and smiles at the beautiful glass figure catching the light of the moon.

_Till the last one dies._

* * *

I think I made Arthur a little too girly :;face palm:; but that wasn't my intention! I'll try very hard to make him bad ass in the next one. Well he already is I just have to learn how to _write_ him like that. lol

Anyway reviews are like sending me a puppy, which i would love and flames are like sending me a kitten...which I'm allergic to... : (life can be cruel. 3


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